


A Most Reluctant Herald

by underneaththewaves



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Culture Shock, Eventual smut... maybe?, F/M, Mass Effect/Dragon Age Crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-04-09 15:34:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4354472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/underneaththewaves/pseuds/underneaththewaves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack (Mass Effect) finds herself flung into another world entirely, one she has no idea how to begin navigating her way through. Things get even worse when she finds herself being declared the world's only hope of survival. She definitely didn't sign up for this shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I've never even thought of attempting anything like this before, but last night this idea of Jack as the Inquisitor came to me and I figured it might be fun to give it a go. So... here I am, going. Probably failing hard, but oh well.

"Fucking typical - finally work up the balls to come to this fucking planet, and here I am about to die like a bitch. Fuck this."

The last thing Jack could remember was shouting those words at the enormous energy field as it swallowed her shuttle. An energy field the computer had only warned her about moments before, leaving her no time to change her course or do anything more practical than rail furiously against her situation. She had kept her eyes open, refusing to hide from her fate, but had ended up knocked unconscious. When she awoke it was in a strange, desolate landscape, shrouded in a thick green fog.

She could hear the skittering before she could see what was causing it. Jack wasn't one to back down from a fight, though, and she stood her ground, prepared to hit whatever was coming after her with the full force of her biotic rage. Then, in a perfect example of supremely shitty timing, two things happened simultaneously. First, she was shocked to see what appeared to be some seriously fucked up Rachni emerging from the fog, while at the same time discovering that whatever had happened to her had also wiped out her biotics, leaving her helpless. Cursing her shitty fucking luck, Jack ran.

Almost immediately she came to a steep, damn near perpendicular, staircase hewn out of stone. As she neared the top she saw a woman, glowing blinding white, reaching out to her. Giving herself one last desperate push she just managed to grab the woman's hand, and felt herself pulled to safety. Everything went white, and the next thing she knew she was falling to the ground, before being knocked out once again. This time when she came to, she was in a small stone room, her hands shackled together and chained to the floor, with a strange throbbing ache in her left hand.

"What the fu-" Jack stopped short when she looked down and saw the strange green glow coming from her hand. This was unlike anything her biotics had ever produced, and what's more it _hurt_ , a sudden spasm of pain cutting short anything further she might have said. She barely had time to process this latest development before the door opened and two women entered. One was tall, slim and dark haired, the other petite and, just visible under her hood, fairer haired. Jack gasped, her eyes going wide at the sight of the darker haired of the two newcomers. She even forgot about the pain snaking up her arm.

"Shepard? What the hell are you doing here? Wait, no, fuck that, where the hell is here?"

The women stopped, obviously confused. They turned away from Jack and had a brief whispered conference. Eventually the dark haired one stepped forward.

"Who is Shepard? Who, for that matter, are you?" She looked angry, furious even, and it was quite obviously taking a tremendous amount of effort for her to keep her voice at all calm. Jack wasn't feeling particularly peachy herself though, stuck in this alien hole, manacled like some common criminal. Her time since the raid on the Collector's base had been spent 'bettering' herself; she'd managed to get her temper almost entirely under control and had, somehow, become, hell, a productive member of society. Responsible even.

She'd seen enough weird shit to last several life times, but this was starting to test her. Jack felt the old familiar anger build inside her, and instinct took over as she prepared to blast every asshole in the room with the mother of all shockwaves. Nothing happened. Well, nothing that Jack would have counted as a win - instead the mark on her hand flared back to life, causing her to cry out in pain, making everyone in the room take a hurried step back.

The two women regarded her with a mixture of alarm and fear. Eventually the angry one stepped forward once more.

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now," she demanded. "The conclave is destroyed, everyone who attended is dead. Except for you."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Jack growled, feeling more and more thoroughly pissed off by the second. "I don't even know where the fuck I am, and I don't know anything about this 'conclave'. You geniuses have obviously got the wrong person."

"Explain this," her interrogator snarled, holding up Jack's marked hand.

"Well shit, I would if I could, especially since you asked _so_ fucking nicely" replied Jack, her words dripping with sarcasm and venom. She doubted even the saintly Shepard would begrudge the return of her old attitude under the circumstances, though a small, uncharitable voice in her head thought that Commander Girl Scout would probably have co-operated as much as possible and shed a single noble tear at the thought of all those dead strangers.

"You're lying," shouted the dark haired woman who, with her harder, more angular face, really didn't look anything like her old friend at all, Jack now realised. Also, unlike this deranged bitch, Shepard probably wouldn't have started to throttle a suspect in the middle of an interrogation.

Before Jack could think about how to defend herself the other woman, silent until now, stepped forward and pulled her colleague away. "We need her, Cassandra," she said firmly, her accent and tone nothing like her friend's. She turned back towards Jack, as if waiting for her to say something.

"Yeah, _Cassandra_ , so just back the fuck off. Now, let me go." Jack cringed inwardly at how petulant she sounded, and figured, a little belatedly, that it was also pretty unwise to provoke the clearly tightly wound Cassandra any further. The realisation was starting to form that wherever she was, she wasn't going to get out of this mess by pissing people off. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself down.

The hooded woman held a pacifying hand up to her increasingly irate looking friend. "Do you remember what happened? How this began?" she asked, her voice almost soothing.

Jack took one more breath, feeling herself almost back to normal, before answering. "I remember running. Had a bunch of Rachni on my ass. Guess they didn't get the memo about us all being friends now. Then I saw a woman."

Her captors exchanged another glance. Jack couldn't read their faces, but could tell they didn't entirely believe her. "A woman?" asked the friendlier one. Cassandra snorted, " _that's_ the part you question?" she muttered under her breath.

"Yeah, she reached out to me, but then -" Jack was cut off by Cassandra addressing her colleague, almost pushing her out of the room as she spoke.

"Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the rift."

Jack half expected to be attacked again, but instead found the chain holding her to the floor loosened before being helped to her feet. "So, what _did_ happen?" she asked casually.

Cassandra looked at her wearily, as if all the fight had suddenly left her. "It will be easier to show you," she sighed, leading Jack out of the building.

Once outside Jack immediately started to regret her lack of warm clothing. Shit but it was cold. She was just starting to feel sorry for herself, then she looked up. The sky was dominated by a huge swirling vortex, the same bilious green as the mark on her hand. She'd seen all kinds of skies on all kinds of planets, but none of them, not even the constant violent lightning storms that enveloped Hagalaz, looked as menacingly evil as this sky did now.

"We call it 'The Breach'. It's a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour. It's not the only such rift. Just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave" Cassandra said, staring up at the hole in the sky, as if she could simply will it shut.

"Did you just say 'world of demons'?" Jack asked, trying to keep the scorn and cynicism out of her voice, but not able to entirely. Before Cassandra could answer, the rift spat out a huge bolt of energy, which seemed to react with the mark, causing Jack to collapse, screaming.

Cassandra knelt in front of Jack, "each time the breach expands, your mark spreads... and it is killing you," she said, matter-of-factly. "It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn't much time."

Jack stared at her for a long moment. She found herself wondering what Shepard would say in this situation. She'd never admit it out loud, but the Commander had become something of a role model to her once she decided to turn away from the 'murderous psychopath' career path. Shep, she decided, would draw up herself to her full height and state her unwavering desire to do what had to be done, damn the consequences to herself. Jack, however, found that in her current situation she didn't share Shepard's instinct for martyrdom.

"Well, shit, if I do... whatever it is you want me to do... will I actually live through it?" Jack asked. There was another long pause.

Cassandra's cool gaze lingered over Jack's face, scrutinizing her closely. After a moment her shoulders slumped, "we have no way of knowing," she admitted, helping Jack to her feet once more.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack found herself being guided through a small camp, angry eyes and muttered threats following her as she went.

"They have decided your guilt. They need it," Cassandra explained, keeping a protective hand on her prisoner's back at all times. "The people of Haven mourn our Most Holy, Divine Justina. The Conclave was hers. It was a chance for peace between mages and templars. She brought their leaders together. Now, they are dead."

Jack had temporarily given up trying to understand anything about this place, but made a mental note to ask about the Divine, mages, and templars later, assuming she survived.

"We lash out like the sky, but we must think beyond ourselves, like she did," Cassandra continued, her voice starting to quiver slightly. They passed through some large wooden doors and found themselves on a bridge. Cassandra stopped and pulled out a knife. She cut the ropes binding Jack's wrists, "there will be a trial, I can promise no more. Come, there is not much time," she declared, indicating that Jack should take the lead, presumably so an eye could be kept on her.

Jack didn't like following orders, it didn't come naturally to her, but she also knew now when to pick her battles. Begrudgingly she went in front, and together the two women made their way in silence along a narrow path, the tear in the sky glowering down at them all the while.

"You said earlier you don't know where this is," Cassandra said at length, "do you truly have no recollection of how you came to be here?"

"I remember I was travelling to Benning, then, out of fucking nowhere, this weird-ass green cloud appeared right in front of my shuttle and everything went all to hell," Jack replied.

Cassandra stopped suddenly, "I have never heard of any place named Benning, and what do you mean by 'your shuttle'? You're not making any sense. Explain yourself," she demanded, her expression becoming one of perplexed irritation.

Jack turned around slowly to face the other woman. "Benning is a planet in the Euler system. I was travelling there, in a Kodiak shuttle, for reasons that are none of your damn business," she replied in a level voice, biting back her anger.

"If you do not wish to answer my question, then say so, but please do not insult me by making up such obvious nonsense," Cassandra bristled. She stalked off ahead, so didn't see the rather enthusiastically obscene gesture Jack made in her direction.

Jack was about to give voice to her ire when the bridge they were crossing was hit by a bolt from the breach and exploded in a shower of stone, sending them tumbling onto the ice below. Cassandra was on her feet in an instant, drawing her sword and throwing herself at a... what the fuck _was_ that?

When a second _thing_ emerged from the ground right in front of her, Jack cast her eyes around desperately for something, anything, she could use as a weapon, and was relieved to find a long wooden staff amongst the debris from the bridge. It was no M-22, but she'd made do with far worse before now. Her adrenaline pumping, Jack swept behind the demon and brought the staff down on its head. 

The loud crunch of wood meeting bone was intensely satisfying, as was the screech of pain the creature emitted. It hissed and tried to swipe at her, but Jack was too quick for it and sidestepped its claw-like hand. Twirling her staff she hit it again, the euphoria of battle sweeping through her. A few more solid whacks and the demon was dead,  a wisp of black smoke and a lingering odour the only evidence of it having been there at all.

Cassandra, after finishing off the other shade with a vicious lunge of her sword, wheeled around, pointing her blade at Jack, "drop your weapon, now!" she shouted.

 "I hope you don't really think I need this piece of wood to be dangerous? " Jack scoffed, not seeing any reason to let on that her biotics were currently out of action.

"That is hardly reassuring," Cassandra replied, frowning, "but... I have no doubt that if you had wanted to harm me you would have done so by now. You do not strike me as someone for whom restraint comes easily."

"Oh, you have no idea," Jack muttered under her breath. "Just what the hell were those things?" she asked, as they set off once more.

"Those were shades, demons in their true form. You have never seen one before?" Cassandra asked.

"Nah, we have a lot of crazy shit where I come from, but no actual demons," Jack responded, not caring whether the other woman was any more inclined to believe her now or not.

Cassandra opened her mouth to respond, but was cut short by the appearance of another group of shades. This time Jack took a moment to watch the warrior in action, and had to admit that, in the graceful way she moved in combat and the lethal ease with which she set about her enemies, Cassandra really was a little reminiscent of Shepard after all.

Jack was not one to shy away from action for long, however, and took great pleasure in swiftly bringing down another one of the demons. So long as she had an enemy to fight, she thought, she might just be able to keep her sanity in this place.

Before long the demons were dead, dispatched with brutal efficiency, but Cassandra stood still, staring at Jack as though trying to work out the solution to a particularly thorny problem. "Where _are_ you from?" she demanded after a few moments, keeping one hand on the hilt of her sword, Jack noticed.

"Nowhere you've heard of, I'm sure," came the belligerent reply.

"I will tell you what I think, then, since you refuse to answer. I think you're an agent, sent to spy upon, and disrupt, the Conclave; possibly a Rivaini, to judge by all your... markings, hired by Tevinter, though I concede that is unlikely. As for your _memory lapses_ ," Cassandra heavily emphasised the words, saying them with pointed disdain to make it perfectly clear she did not consider them such at all, "I suppose they could be the result of the blast, which naturally you had not intended to be caught in yourself. However, we now find ourselves in the unenviable position of needing your help, and if it is rendered I will endeavour to assure leniency will be shown at your trial."

A horrible silence hung in the air after Cassandra finished. If she was aware just how infuriated her prisoner now was, she didn't seem to care. Jack's temper, explosive at the best of times, was dangerously close to bubbling over and it was only with the greatest exertion  of willpower that she was able to regain any semblance of self-control. Once she started speaking, however, her composure threatened to unravel completely.

"I don't know how much clearer I can make this, but I _am not from this fucking planet_. Hell, I don't even know what it's called. I've already told you I don't know shit about your precious Conclave; I don't know anything about this place at all except that I'm not supposed to fucking be here. You need my help? If this _thing_ on my hand wasn't trying to kill me I'd tell you to go to hell, but I guess that's not an option, so let's just get this job done so I can start trying to figure out how to go home."

Cassandra had anticipated either a confession, or a furious denial. She certainly hadn't expected her captive to stand there making claims of being from another world. Clearly, she thought, this could not be true, but there had been no obvious signs of deceit or dissemblance. Either the woman was a gifted liar, or she truly believed what she was saying. If they survived the closing of the rift, she decided, it would be left to Leliana to discover the truth.  

"Very well, I will say no more on the matter," Cassandra said with a small shrug, "I am grateful for your willingness to close the rift, even if your motivation is not altruistic. Come, we must continue to the rift, the others will be in need of our aid," she added, gesturing for Jack to go ahead of her up the mountain path.

"Others? What others?" Jack asked, attempting to hide her surprise at her captor's sudden shift in tone.

"You'll see soon enough," came the reply. 


	3. Chapter 3

Jack and Cassandra climbed in silence, and before long the sound of fighting came drifting down to them. Quickening their pace, they reached the source of the commotion just in time to help two men finish off a couple of demons. No sooner had the last demon evaporated in a puff of foul smelling smoke than one of the men had grabbed Jack's hand and pointed it at the nearby rift, out of which the demons had been spilling.

A scream of pain mingled with shock was wrenched from her throat as the mark interacted with the rift. The two forces pushed and pulled against one another, the resultant impact sending tendrils of agony creeping up her arm and through her body.

After a few moments, which may as well have been hours as far as Jack was concerned, the rift was destroyed, exploded into shards of green light. Jack snatched her arm away and turned to glare at the man who'd grabbed her. Despite her anger she couldn't help noticing his strangely pointed ears. She recognised him as an elf, which surprised her somewhat as she'd thought they only existed on those cheesy old fantasy vids with which Joker was so obsessed.

"What the hell did you just do?" she snapped, her interest in his appearance being quickly replaced by resentment as she became aware of the ache in her arm and reminded herself how he'd manhandled her.

"I did nothing, you were the one who closed the rift," he replied calmly, either not noticing or not caring about her obvious irritation.

"I didn't do shit," Jack retorted, scowling , "it was this thing," she added, holding up her marked hand. "Fucking hurt as well. Shit." She muttered, frowning down at the mark.

The man looked at her intently, "whatever magic opened the breach also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorised the mark might be able to close the rifts that have appeared as a result of the breach, and it appears I was correct. As for the pain," he gave a slight smile, "you have just closed a literal tear in the fade using only your hand. A little discomfort is perhaps to be expected."

"So we can use the mark to close the breach?" Cassandra asked hurriedly, judging it prudent not to give Jack an opportunity to respond to the elf's condescension.

"Possibly," he mused, seemingly blissfully unaware of how close he had come to being the latest victim of Jack's rather frayed temper, "it seems you hold the key to our salvation," he continued, a look of concern flitting across his face.

"Good to know," piped up the second man, "here I thought we'd be ass-deep in demons forever."

Jack hadn't really noticed him until now, but already she liked him more than anyone else she'd met that day. "Varric Tethras, and Bianca, at your service," he continued, gesturing at the massive crossbow he carried on his back, "rogue, story teller... occasionally unwelcome tagalong," here he gave Cassandra a wink, the irritated groan it elicited only making Jack warm to him even more, "but currently technically a prisoner, just like you." He gave an exaggeratedly mournful shake of his head, earning a look of utter contempt from Cassandra.

"You know you were brought here to tell the Divine your story, Varric. Clearly that is no longer necessary, and neither is your presence," Cassandra said edgily, making no attempt to conceal her disdain for the dwarf.

"Seeker, I'm hurt," Varric replied, feigning dismay. "Have you been in the valley lately? Your soldiers aren't in control any more. You need me," he continued, finishing with a smug smile. Cassandra gave a disgusted grunt, but said nothing more.

"I am Solas, if there are to be introductions," said the elf, cheerfully ignoring the little drama which had just unfolded, "it is good to see you yet live."

"He means he kept the mark from killing you while you slept," Varric added.

Jack swallowed the last of her irritation and turned to face Solas, "huh, well... thanks, I guess. You know about this stuff then?" she asked, eager to turn the subject away from her indebtedness to the man she'd been so angry at just moments ago.

Solas smiled, clearly pleased that his wisdom had been so readily perceived, but it was Cassandra who spoke. "Solas is an apostate," she said matter-of-factly, evidently feeling that no further explanation was required.

"Technically all mages are apostates now, Cassandra" he replied patiently, "but my travels have allowed me to experience much, far more than any circle mage. You should know - the magic here is unlike any I have ever encountered. Your prisoner is no mage, but there is something about her, a power that I cannot quite explain; even so I cannot imagine her or a mage, any mage, being able to do this," he said, gesturing up at the breach.

"I understand," Cassandra acknowledged, sighing resignedly, "come, we must get to the forward camp quickly. Leliana should have reached it by now and will be waiting for us."

The journey to camp was largely uneventful; apart from a couple of small demon groups they didn't meet with any trouble, and with four of them now in the party the fights were ending almost before they'd begun. Jack had been especially intrigued by Solas' fighting techniques. He had a staff, just like the one she was carrying, but he used his to channel and focus strange energies, which almost looked biotic. She decided to ask him about it later, even if it meant temporarily putting her dislike for him aside.

Once inside Cassandra spotted her colleague immediately, locked in a heated discussion with a rather severe looking man. Upon seeing the group wandering over, Leliana attempted to introduce Jack to Chancellor Roderick, but was cut off abruptly.

"I know who she is, and I want her arrested and taken to Val Royeux to face execution", he spluttered furiously, his face turning increasingly deeper shades of purple as he spoke. "As chancellor of the Chantry, I order you to do as I say!" He barked at Cassandra.

"You? Order me? You are nothing but a glorified clerk," Cassandra sneered incredulously.

"Let's just get one thing clear, no one is taking me fucking anywhere, especially not to be fucking executed!" Jack exclaimed, glowering furiously at the Chancellor.

Roderick looked stunned for a moment, before turning back to Cassandra. "Call a retreat, Seeker. Our position here is hopeless," he said, all his previous bluster replaced by defeated weariness.

Cassandra placed her palms on the table standing between her and the Chancellor and lent forward to meet his eye, "no, we must stop this madness before it is too late. We have to get to the temple, it is the quickest route."

"But not the safest," Leliana interjected, "our forces can charge as a distraction while we go through the mountains."

The two women deliberated further about what the best course of action would be, occasionally interrupted by Roderick. Eventually Jack tired of listening to their squabbling and stepped into the middle of the little huddle.

"As much fun as it is standing here watching you all argue, I'd quite like to do something about this shit on my hand, and since that apparently means closing that fucking thing," here she jabbed a finger towards the breach, "I say we just get on with it and head to the temple. Screw playing it safe and subtle," she declared, glaring at each of them in turn, daring someone to disagree with her.

No one opposed her, in fact Cassandra looked rather pleased with the decision. Leliana simply shrugged and set about gathering everyone together for a push on the temple, and Roderick muttered something about consequences, though truthfully no one was paying him much attention.

It wasn't a long walk to the temple, but there was a far greater concentration of enemies along the route than they'd faced previously, which made the going slow and tedious. After a little while they came across a group of soldiers fighting a losing battle against the demons pouring out of another rift. Once they had succeeded in stemming the flow, all eyes turned expectantly to Jack as they waited for her to close the offending fissure.

Jack braced herself, the first time had been agonising, but, she reasoned, at least this time she knew what to expect and could prepare herself. She stepped forward, took a deep breath and held up her hand. The reaction was immediate, as it had been before, and it was still painful, but it was definitely less traumatic this time around. Solas was just commenting on how quickly she had become proficient at sealing the rifts when a tall, blond man hurried over to the party.

"You've found a way to close the rifts then, Seeker," he said briskly, addressing Cassandra.

"Not me, no. This is the prisoner's doing, Commander," Cassandra responded, placing a hand on Jack's shoulder.

"Hm, I see. I hope they're right about you," the man said, giving Jack a thoroughly unimpressed once over. "My men and I will take the wounded back to camp. I pray you are successful at the breach," he went on, his attention once more on Cassandra. He lingered a moment, casting one more sceptical glance at the party before rushing off to help a soldier carry away an injured comrade.

"That was Commander Cullen," Cassandra explained to Jack, watching the man go, "please do not mind his shortness, today has been... difficult," she finished, turning her gaze towards the whirling rupture in the sky.

"Yeah, well, it's not been a bed of roses for me either, so let's just get this done, shall we?" Jack replied, too tired now to be offended by one more person reacting to her as though she was scum.

On they walked, past scenes of utter devastation. Small fires still burned, the stench of burning flesh chokingly strong. The bodies of countless people, almost fossilized by the heat of the explosion, littered the area. The taint of evil was palpable, and an eerie quiet hung over the place, making their footsteps sound indecently loud. Shuddering, Jack picked up her pace, keen to escape the frozen, terrified faces - mouths locked grotesquely in silent screams, the eyes filled with horror.

The inside of the temple was dominated by a massive rift, much larger than those they'd previously encountered; hanging ominously above everything was the breach, filling the air with a crackling, malevolent energy. The party was stood gaping up at the broken sky when Leliana and some archers arrived. Cassandra told her to have her men fan out and take up positions around the temple before turning back to Jack.

"This is your chance to end this, are you ready?" She said, her tone making it clear that it was a question to which she felt there was only one answer.

"Yeah I'm ready, but if you have an idea on how to get me up to that thing I'm all fucking ears," Jack replied, voice quiet, eyes not moving from the breach.

"No, this rift was the first, and it is the key," Solas stated emphatically, "seal it, and perhaps you seal the breach."

Cassandra had been about to say something more when another voice boomed out, stopping everyone in their tracks.

"Now is the hour of our victory. Bring forth the sacrifice." It was a man's voice, the tone cold, hard.

Cassandra looked around wildly, "what are we hearing?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"At a guess? The person who created the breach," Solas replied, unflappably calm.

They heard no more from the mysterious speaker as they continued along the decimated corridor. Here and there were outcroppings of crystals the colour of blood, which Varric identified as red lyrium, the presence of which seemed to worry him almost as much as the breach.

As they approached the rift, they heard yet more voices; Cassandra identified one as belonging to the Divine, the other was Jack's. They all listened in stunned silence as the Divine called out for help, followed by Jack demanding to know what the fuck was going on.

For a moment or two, no one spoke. Then, before any questions could be asked, black smoke billowed up around the rift and suddenly they could see the image of the Divine before them, suspended in the air, while a man shrouded in a black haze loomed over her.

"What... what the fuck? Where am I?" The spectral Jack asked, having just staggered into the scene.

"Run while you can! Warn them!" The Divine called.

"We have an intruder," spoke the mysterious man, his voice the same as the one they'd heard upon entering the temple, "kill her."

In a bright flash of light, everything vanished and they were left once again with the rift twisting in front of them.

"You were there! Who attacked? And the Divine... is she...? Was the vision true?" Cassandra cried, turning angrily to Jack.

"I haven't got a clue who that guy was, I don't know whether your precious Divine is alive or dead and I don't know if what we just saw even fucking happened. When are you going to get it - I don't remember a fucking thing. Ok?"

Cassandra bristled, and was about to respond when Solas, who had been stood staring at the rift, turned to face the two women.

"This rift is not sealed, but it is closed. I believe we can open it using the mark, then seal it properly. Opening it will, however, attract attention from the other side," he informed them.

"That means demons!" Cassandra shouted, her mind once again focussed solely on the business at hand, "everybody get ready!"

The thing that emerged from the rift was a world away from the shades Jack had expected. It was massive, ugly as sin and vicious. Almost immediately it put up some kind of barrier around itself, and without thinking Jack raised her hand to the rift once more in an attempt to disrupt it. This worked - the creature was stricken, and everyone took their chance to pummel it with blows, arrows and magic.

After a long, painful fight they succeeded in killing the beast, though they all had plenty of injuries of their own to show for their troubles. Jack walked purposefully up to the rift and held out her arm. The reaction this time was violently strong but, although it took all her concentration to stay conscious, she managed eventually to to close of the rift. Then, for the third time that day, Jack passed out.


	4. Chapter 4

Closing the rift at the temple had been a particularly exhausting process, physically. The effort required to shut it, as well as the resultant explosion, ensured a long spell of unconsciousness for Jack, despite the best efforts of the camp's healers.

Solas was a frequent visitor to the hut which had been set aside for her convalescence. At first he had simply wanted to satisfy himself, and a worried Cassandra, that the mark was no longer a threat. After he had confirmed that it was no longer growing and that Jack was no longer in any danger of it killing her, he'd found reasons to continue visiting her anyway, so keen was he to learn more about the peculiar energy he had sensed in her before. He found himself growing increasingly eager for her to awake, and midway through the second day his patience was rewarded.

He was writing down some observations of her behavior prior to the closing of the temple rift, when, to his great relief, he heard her stir. Moving to her bedside, he waited for her to wake properly before he said anything. In the event, it was she who spoke first.

"Fuck, I am _never_ drinking Ryncol again," she muttered groggily, sitting up and opening her eyes. "The hell... oh, oh _fuck_ , I'm still _here_ ," she groaned upon seeing Solas, and realising where she was.

"How are you feeling?" Solas asked, not bothered by her apparent dismay at seeing him.

"Like I've just gone twenty rounds with an ATLAS mech, since you ask," Jack replied, sinking back onto the bed.

"I... do not know what that means," Solas said uncertainly.

Jack stared at him for a moment, "it means I feel fucking horrible," she clarified.

"Ah, I see. It is understandable, your body and mind have been through a lot..." if he said more, Jack didn't hear it. She was suddenly very aware of a familar tingle building inside her, and with a jolt of giddy joy realised that she was once again in full possession of her not inconsiderable biotic powers. For a brief moment she pondered whether or not to test them out on the elf, who had indeed mercifully stopped talking, but banished the idea almost as soon as it came to her.

Solas was regarding Jack with a look of abject curiosity. Her hand was engulfed in a rippling blue haze, and for the first time since he'd met her she was smiling. The combined effect of these developments proved quite unsettling; when she thrust her hand forward and, with a flick of her wrist, sent the chair at the end of her bed flying across the room he was unable to hide his shock.

His shock, however, was nothing compared to that of the young elven servant who had entered silently, and who now only narrowly avoided being hit by the flying furniture. With a yelp she scurried out the hut, dropping the clean clothes she had been carrying. "Ah shit," Jack muttered sheepishly, making a mental note to maybe apologise later.  

"You are not a mage, I am certain of that, so how then are you able to do that?" Solas asked, looking first to Jack and then the chair lying on the floor.  

"I'm a biotic. Bet you don't have any of them 'round here. Not a whole lot of eezo here in the fucking dark ages, I guess," Jack replied.

"And what is a biotic? I have never heard that word before, nor do I know what 'eezo' is." 

Jack rolled her eyes, "Figures. It's element zero, we use it for all kinds of crap, but it's super radioactive. A biotic, a human one anyway, is someone who was exposed to eezo dust in the womb."

"You have said several times that you are not from this world. Tell me of where you _are_ from," Solas asked, his expression impassive once more.

Jack had been so pleased to see her powers return that she had allowed her guard to drop, but now she turned her head sharply, "no offence, but why the hell should I buy that you suddenly believe I'm not from this backwards rock of yours?" She demanded.

"Cassandra is not convinced, she sees only in black and white, but I am more open minded. My experiences have given me an understanding of just how many shades of grey there are in the world. Be it my world, or yours," Solas replied, offering a small smile. Despite herself, Jack recognised his sincerity, and even allowed him a small twitch of her mouth that could almost pass as a smile in return. 

"Ok, fine," she said, relaxing a little. "I don't know exactly where I'm from, there were... complications... when I was born. I kind of drifted all over the place for a while. I've spent the last couple of years on Earth, which I guess you've also never heard of. So, just what the hell do you call  _this_ place then?" 

"Thedas," Solas replied, simply, "more specifically, we are currently in the kingdom of Ferelden," he added. "You should know, the people of Thedas do not, as a rule, give much thought to what may be beyond the stars. To many your tale will sound so strange and fantastic as to be unbelievable. I, however, find it fascinating and would like to hear more of it."

"Me too, I do love a good story." Jack and Solas both started when Varric spoke, neither of them having heard him enter. "Sorry, sorry," he laughed, "there I was minding my own business when a terrified elf scuttled past twittering about how 'the Herald is awake, the Herald is angry, the Herald just tried to kill me with a chair' and I just had to come see for myself," he explained, leaning nonchalantly against the wall.

"Varric is something of a writer, tell him nothing you do not wish to see end up in a highly sensationalised form in a future book," Solas said, frowning slightly at the dwarf. 

"Ah c'mon Chuckles, how could I possibly make  _this_ story more interesting? And only ' _something_ of a writer'? I'm hurt!"  _  
_

Jack wasn't listening, "what did you say that girl called me?" she asked once Varric had stopped talking.

"The Herald? As in, The Herald of Andraste. That's what everyone calls you now," he replied.

"Who or what the fuck is Andraste, and how the hell am I its herald?" Jack asked irritatedly. Solas and Varric shared a quick, concerned look.

"Woah, it's a good job I mentioned it. Can't have you talking like that in front of the seeker, or the chancellor. According to The Chantry, Andraste is the bride of The Maker, who, in case it wasn't obvious made... well... everything." Varric explained. 

"As for why they are calling you Her Herald, in the eyes of many you performed a miracle at the temple, and the ability to do so was granted by Andraste. That is who people are saying you saw in the Fade. There is no need for you to believe it, it is enough that others do." Solas continued. 

Jack sat there in silence for a long moment, her mouth hanging agape, her brow knitted with confusion and incredulity. "Bullshit," she eventually managed to spit out. 

"Yeah, won't be hard to find people who agree with you there," Varric said, moving closer to the bed. "Look, I won't lie, even I would struggle to make your story sound convincing, but we're on your side," he continued, waving his hand towards Solas. "Now, it seems to me you're going to need some help understanding how things are around here, and I for one am more than happy to oblige. Chuckles?" 

Solas inclined his head slightly in a show of agreement. "Naturally, I shall be of any assistance possible," he concurred, "but for now I think the best thing is to let-" he stopped suddenly. He looked at Jack, embarrassed, "forgive me, but in all the confusion I do not believe anyone has thought to ask you your name," he said apologetically. Varric's eyes went wide as he realised how remiss he too had been.

Whether it was because she was still exhausted, or just because the ridiculousness of her situation had finally started to sink in, Jack wasn't sure, but she couldn't help but laugh. "Shit, didn't even realise I hadn't told anyone... the name's Jack," she said, once she'd managed to compose herself. 

"Well, Jack, I think it best that we let you rest awhile now," Solas said, "we shall return later." With that the two men left, leaving her to sleep. 

It was late in the evening when Varric returned to Jack's hut. He was alone this time, having been unable to find Solas anywhere. Tucked under his arm he carried a package wrapped in cloth, which he set down upon the table next to the bed upon entering the hut. 

"What's that?" Jack asked, eying the bundle with vague suspicion. 

"A present. There's a lot of weird shit happening right now, and if Cassandra has her way you're going to help sort some of it out. Knowing the seeker, I don't think she'll be planning to give you much choice in the matter, so I reckon it wouldn't hurt for you to have a bit of insight into what's led up to this mess. This here is the book I wrote about The Champion of Kirkwall, Uh... just read it, it'll explain a lot, you'll see," he added hurriedly, seeing that Jack was about to point out that she had no clue who The Champion was.  

Jack reached out and picked up the tome. She leafed through it's pages, enjoying the feel of holding an actual book; also, since entertainment was likely to be thin on the ground she welcomed any distraction from her loud, angry, fucking _insistent_  thoughts. "Thanks for this. I... ah hell, I hate this kind of shit. Look, I know I haven't exactly given anyone a reason to be nice to me, but I really appreciate that you have been," she said, idly fingering the embossed lettering on the cover of the book, and determinedly _not_ looking at Varric. 

"Hey, you saved our lives, and after everything that's happened to you I'd say you've earned the right to be a bit cranky," Varric replied, pleased to get glimpses, however small, beneath Jack's ferocious exterior. Deciding not to push his luck too much in one go, he moved back towards the door. "Anyway, I've got some letters to write, seeya tomorrow Straps," he said, leaving the hut with a small wave. 

"Straps?" Jack muttered to herself, puzzling over it for a moment before picking the book back up. She had only meant to read the first few pages, but that damn dwarf could _write_ , so she ended up reading long into the night, eventually falling asleep sitting up in bed with the book open on her lap. She was awoken the next morning by the sound of someone entering the hut, the same servant from the day before as it turned out.

The girl gasped and dropped to the floor, bowing so low that her head bumped against the floorboards. "I-I didn't know you were awake, I swear!" she stammered.

"No sweat, look I'm sorry about yeste-" Jack's apology was cut short by a small cry of alarm from the elf.

 "I beg your forgiveness and your blessing, I am but a humble servant," she said desperately, clearly terrified.  _  
_

"Seriously, stop. I'm sorry I nearly hit you with a chair, okay? Please, just... get up," Jack said, feeling a little desperate herself. 

Timidly, the elf stood up. She still couldn't bring herself to look Jack fully in the eye, but she did at least feel confident enough to glance over at the bed. "Lady Cassandra wanted to know when you awoke. 'At once', she said. She'll be in the Chantry," she was backing towards the door, wringing her hands nervously. Jack opened her mouth to respond, but was once again cut off. "At once!" the elf squeaked, fleeing the room. 

Sighing, Jack stood up and stretched. As she left the hut, she was immediately confronted by the sight of throngs of people lining the path. A collective gasp went up as she emerged, followed by a reverential silence. She approached a soldier standing nearby and quietly asked him to direct her to the Chantry. Unable to conceal his surprise he pointed her towards the large, imposing building standing at the top of the hill. 

Jack followed the path, beset by shocked murmurs sweeping through the crowd about the Herald of Andraste not knowing where the Chantry was. Inside, she could hear the sounds of a bitter argument raging behind a door at the far end of the building. She made out Cassandra's unmistakable voice, as well as that of a man she supposed to be that asshole chancellor.

He was shouting wildly that he still wanted 'the prisoner' arrested, which was met by an equally adamant refusal from the seeker. On and on they went, quarreling in circles. For a moment, Jack considered turning on her heel and getting the hell out of there, but she knew she wouldn't get far. Like it or not, she needed these people as much as they'd needed her, and for the time being at least she'd have to play by their rules. Bracing herself, she opened the door. 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Jack wasn't even through the door before Roderick had turned to face her, eyes blazing, barking to the guards to chain her and take her away, an order which Cassandra furiously countermanded. 

"You walk a dangerous line, seeker," the chancellor warned, his voice low with menace. 

The implied threat singularly failed to have the desired effect, however, since neither Leliana or Cassandra were willing to humour him any longer. They swiftly made it abundantly plain that, as far as they were concerned, even he wasn't above suspicion of being involved in the destruction of the conclave. 

" _I_ am a suspect?" He spluttered indignantly. 

"You and many others," Leliana replied, her expression and tone carefully neutral. 

"But not the prisoner?" Roderick asked, equal parts incredulous and angry. 

Jack had heard enough. "Hey, screw you, asshole. I closed that thing, didn't I? It nearly fucking killed me, so yeah, damn right I'm not going to take the fall for this mess." 

Roderick looked briefly stunned, but collected himself quickly, "do you truly expect people to believe that your survival, that  _thing_ on your hand are simply coincidences?" he sneered. 

Cassandra swept past Jack to stand directly in front of the chancellor, "providence, the Maker sent her to us in our darkest hour," she replied.

"You don't actually believe that, do you?" Jack scoffed, unable to hide her disdain.

"I admit it is hard to understand His choice, but no matter what  _you_ believe or where you are from, you are exactly what we needed when we needed it," Cassandra bristled, her disapproval evident. 

"The breach remains, and your mark is our only hope of closing it," Leliana added, giving nothing away of her own feelings. 

"This is not for you to decide," Roderick snapped. He was getting increasingly desperate at losing any control over the situation, and it was showing. Jack couldn't find it in herself to have any pity for him though, and was especially intrigued when Cassandra slammed a heavy book down on the table. The effect it had on the chancellor was immediate and dramatic. His face slackened, while his eyes widened, and he no longer seemed capable of speech. Not that Cassandra was going to give him the chance to talk, even if he could. 

"You know what this is, chancellor. A writ from the Divine, granting us the authority to act. As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn. We _will_ close the breach, we  _will_ find those responsible, and we  _will_ restore order, with or without your approval," as she spoke, she moved towards him, backing him towards the door. Once she had finished, he gave the room one last contempt filled look, then turned on his heel and left. As soon as the door was closed once more, Cassandra slumped slightly, clearly relieved at having him gone, but also, Jack could see, thoroughly exhausted both by the events of the previous days and with the effort of trying so hard to hold herself together.

"This is the Divine's directive. Rebuild the Inquisition of old, find those who will stand against the chaos," Leliana explained, giving Jack a meaningful look. "We are not ready. We have no leader, no numbers and now no Chantry support," she concluded. 

"But we have no choice; we must act now, with you at our side," Cassandra said, looking at Jack with a mixture of hope and trepidation. 

"Are you fu- you really are serious about needing me, aren't you?" Jack replied, biting back her disbelief. 

"I admit it is not ideal; you are not who I would have chosen, but you are all we have," Cassandra replied curtly. Jack recognised the fairness of this assessment, admitting to herself that she had hardly been on commendable form. Sighing, she squared her shoulders and looked the seeker right in the eye. 

"Then I'll help. Shit, this might even be fun." The look on Cassandra's face left no doubt as to how little she agreed with that statement, but she held out her hand to Jack none the less. After a moment of hesitation, Jack took the proffered hand, sealing her place in the fledgling organisation. 

There was no time to take stock of these latest developments; no sooner had the rebirth of the Inquisition been announced than Haven erupted into a flurry of frantic activity. Jack busied herself helping where she could, finding it oddly relaxing to actually have some simple, mindless tasks to perform. It was while she was collecting herbs for the healers that she stopped to reflect on her current circumstances, and as she did so she came to realise it might not be quite as awful as she'd originally thought. 

Sure, she was a  _long_ way from home, and surrounded by people who neither trusted nor understood her. On the face of it her situation was hopeless, but Jack was nothing if not resilient. Here she had an opportunity to start fresh in a place where no one knew her by her old reputation, where no one would have heard of Subject Zero, or her criminal past. She could instead choose how people would think of her, even if it meant working damned hard at suppressing some of her more impulsive tendencies.

It was an appealing notion, not least because, to her surprise, she found she was actually enjoying getting to know the people of the camp. At first everyone had been wary of her, either because they thought she was marked by Andraste herself, or because she was an angry, foul mouthed stranger, Jack couldn't decide. Gradually though, as they saw how hard she was working on even the most mundane jobs, they started to come round, and soon enough she had arranged to meet a group of them in the tavern that night.

The rest of the day passed quickly in a bustle of enterprise, and soon enough it was time to head over to The Singing Maiden. Varric was already inside, entertaining a small crowd with a tale about the time Hawke and Isabela tried to throw a pre-nuptial party for Aveline and accidentally set fire to the guard's barracks. He was just finishing as Jack entered.    

"There she is! Good to see you up and about, your Heraldness," he cried, giving Jack a grin and a wink. 

"Hey, knock that 'Herald' shit off, it's just Jack, alright?" She replied, returning his smile and taking a seat next to him, gladly accepting a pint of the Maiden's best at the same time. Talk around the table was determinedly small at first, but as the ale flowed personal stories and jokes were swapped, and soon enough the tavern was filled with the happy, messy din of boozy revelry. 

It was not lost on Jack, who had seen more than enough pre- _and_  post-tragedy drunken bonding to last a lifetime, just how much everyone present needed this release. She was therefore perfectly content to simply sit back and listen, laughing at everyone else's tales. Inevitably, though, someone eventually asked her to tell a story of her own, and suddenly she found all eyes eagerly settled upon her.

By this point she was deep into her fourth pint, and in thoroughly good spirits, so didn't take much persuasion. It did briefly occur to her that no one would really understand what she was talking about, but hell, they  _had_ asked for a story, and she intended to give them a good one. 

"Okay, wanna hear about the time me, Shepard and our friend Grunt took down a Thresher Maw on foot?" As expected, she was met by curiosity and puzzlement. 

"What'sh one o' them?" slurred Adan, reluctant apothecary and apparently well into his cups. 

"Yeah, guess I'll need to explain some shit first, huh? Shepard was commander of the Normandy, the ship I travelled on for a while. Grunt was a Krogan we recovered from a messed up breeding facility. The Krogan are a race of fucking _badass_ reptiles, and a Thresher Maw is basically a giant pissed off, acid spitting worm that'll quite gladly eat anything or anyone stupid enough to get near. All with me now?" 

Jack waited for everyone to nod before she continued. 

"Right, well, one day Grunt starts getting kind of antsy, and believe me, the last thing you want sharing a confined space with you is a tense Krogan. Shepard finally gets worried and decides to take him off to Tuchanka, the Krogan home world, to see an old friend of hers who she figured could help. Wrex, her friend, tells us that Grunt's not sick, he's just hitting adolescence, and needs to do his rite of passage to become an adult.

The three of us go off to get this done as quickly as possible, because, really, we did have more important shit to be doing. It starts off easy enough and we're all thinking 'hey, this is gonna be a breeze', Grunt especially is having the time of his life. It was kinda nice watching him get all excited, running around killing Varren. Swear I heard him giggle at one point.  

Anyway, of course it couldn't _stay_ easy. Before we know it the whole place is shaking and a fucking massive Maw comes bursting out of the ground. It can't reach us where we are, but we can't relax for a moment-"

"Because of the acid spit!" Flissa, the Maiden's owner, trilled.

Jack smiled and nodded, "exactly, well remembered," she said, raising her tankard to the pretty barmaid. Flissa turned a fetching shade of pink and smiled sheepishly into her own drink. 

"So, there we are, constantly having to stay on the move since this asshole worm keeps destroying our cover because it's, as I might have already mentioned, an _asshole_.  Fortunately there's plenty of ammo lying around thoughtfully left there by previous, less lucky, Krogan. The next five minutes are intense, crazy. Shepard told us afterwards that she'd taken down a few Maws a couple of years ago, but that had always been from the comfort of a well armed, and armoured, vehicle, never on foot. 

At the end of those five minutes we had one dead Thresher Maw, and damn if Grunt wasn't the happiest fucking Krogan in the galaxy. Even Wrex was impressed, and he's seen a thing or two. I even got a souvenir, courtesy of the acid, right here," Jack pointed to a spot on her forearm where her tattoo was interrupted by a jagged five-inch-long white scar. "Anyway, that's the story of how we became heroes on Tuchanka, and Grunt became a man!" She concluded, downing the rest of her drink. Everyone else finished theirs too, and another round was promptly produced. 

From there evening melted into night, and merriment turned to raucous festivity, with Varric happily holding court with more stories about Hawke and her friends. The sky to the east was starting to lighten when everyone finally parted ways, weaving unsteadily back towards their tents and huts. Jack was more than grateful for her bed, but her head had no sooner hit the pillow, or so it felt, than Cassandra was knocking impatiently on the door, waking her up and making further sleep utterly impossible. Eventually Cassandra tired of waiting for a response and entered anyway. 

"Mmf, what time is it?" Jack muttered, half into her pillow.  

"It is time to get up, Herald. You need to meet the Inquisition's advisors before we start planning our next step." Cassandra's tone and body language made it plain there was no room for negotiation. Jack decided that, even if she felt she were capable of debating currently, this was an argument best left alone. Groaning she rolled out of bed and straightened out her clothes as best she could.

Cassandra gave her a sharp look up and down, but thought better than to comment on the Herald's rather crumpled wardrobe. Together they made their way to the Chantry in silence, Jack thinking longingly of her bed all the while. Some time later, she would reflect that if she had known what a long, arduous day she was in for, she might just have demanded an hour or two longer asleep after all.  


	6. Chapter 6

Cassandra and Jack strode purposefully towards the chantry, or rather,  _Cassandra_ strode while Jack's pace could only charitably have been described as sluggish. Neither woman was particularly inclined to talk at first, which was just as well as far as Jack was concerned, since she wasn't at all convinced she could muster anything intelligible anyway. 

After a few moments, Cassandra broke the silence. "You are not looking terribly well this morning, Herald," she observed, showing neither concern nor surprise. 

"Yeah, had a few drinks with some of the guys from the camp last night. Might have overdone it a bit, Flissa's special ale packs a hell of a punch," Jack replied, the effort of talking making her wince slightly. 

"I am aware of what occurred last night." Even to Jack's fuzzy mind, Cassandra's disapproval was abundantly plain.

"You should have joined us, you would have had a blast," Jack said, then, seeing the seeker's face drop muttered, "sorry, crap choice of words." 

"I was not invited," came the very pointed response. 

"Oh you have  _got_ to be shitting me. You're sulking!" Jack exclaimed, unable to keep her amusement to herself. 

Cassandra nearly choked. "I have no idea what you are talking about," she managed to say with something approaching a dignified air. 

With a rush of guilt Jack forced herself to recognise that it was true that she had considered inviting Cassandra and had ultimately decided against it, having assumed that any such gesture coming from her would be roundly rejected. She had hoped, however, that someone else might have asked the seeker to come and join them, since if there was anyone in camp who would most benefit from a night of cutting loose, it was her.  

"Tell you what, next time we do something like that I'll make sure you get an invite, ok?" Jack asked, in what she hoped would be interpreted as a friendly, conciliatory way. 

"Don't... don't be so absurd," Cassandra bristled, picking up her pace, not wishing Jack to see the slight blush rising on her cheeks. 

The two women entered the chantry in silence. Jack, having thought better of attempting further conversation, was idly inspecting her hand and wondering what else the mark might be able to do. 

"Does it trouble you?" Cassandra asked quietly, startling Jack out of her reverie. 

"Nah. Hurt like hell to begin with, but it's been a lot better since we dealt with that last rift. I wish I knew what the fuck it was though." 

"We will find out. It is at least stable now, as is the breach. You have given us time we desperately needed, and Solas believes a second attempt might succeed, provided the mark has more power." 

"Just how much more power are we talking about, here?" Jack questioned. 

"We will need the same level of power needed to open the breach in the first place. That... will not be easy to come by." 

Jack considered this for a moment. "I'm guessing you have a plan though?" 

"We do," Cassandra replied, opening the door to the back room. Leliana was in there, along a woman Jack didn't recognise and the Commander she'd met briefly outside the temple. The three advisors were stood close together intently studying the large map which had been spread out over the table, and Cullen was in the middle of explaining something, pointing at the map with some vigour. He stopped when he noticed Cassandra and Jack had entered and blushed slightly, to the obvious amusement of Leliana and the other woman. 

Cassandra rolled her eyes, and gestured to the Commander. "Commander Cullen you have met already." 

"Ah yes, it was only for a moment on the field. I am pleased you survived," Cullen said, offering a kind smile. 

Jack inclined her head slightly in acknowledgement. Gone was the condescending ass she'd met before, replaced by an altogether more agreeable man. Now that she really looked at him, Jack could also detect a tiredness around his eyes that hinted at something worse than just a few sleepless nights, a slump to his shoulders that owed more of a terrible burden than simply bad posture, and a slightly sickly sheen to his skin, which she knew was more than just a trick of the candlelight. These signs all spoke loudly to her of a person pushed beyond their limits, and she determined to have a quiet word with Cassandra about it when she next had the opportunity.

For now though there were still introductions to be made, so she buried her concerns and turned to the gold clad woman to her right.

"This is Lady Josephine Montilyet, our ambassador and chief diplomat," Cassandra informed her.

"It is a pleasure to meet you at last. I hope you are comfortable in the accommodation we have provided," Josephine said, smiling politely but not able to entirely mask her nervousness. Clearly, Jack thought, her initial attitude had been much discussed. 

"Yeah, I'm very comfortable thanks," Jack replied, making a conscious effort to look and sound as calm and nonthreatening as possible. "It's very nice to meet you too," she added, feeling that manners were most definitely prudent at that moment. 

Josephine visibly relaxed, "if there is anything we can do to make you feel... more at home, then please do no hesitate to ask," she said, smiling much more warmly. 

"And of course you already know Sister Leliana," Cassandra finished. 

"My position here involves a degree of -" 

"Leliana is our spymaster," Cassandra interrupted impatiently. Plainly subtlety really wasn't her strong suit, Jack thought with a barely suppressed snort of laughter. 

"Ah. Yes. Tactfully put, Cassandra," sighed Leliana. 

"Well, pleased to meet you all," Jack said, still smiling at Cassandra's bluntness. 

"I have explained to the Herald that her mark needs more power in order to close the breach for good," Cassandra told the advisors, feeling that enough time had been wasted on pleasantries. 

"That means we  _must_ approach the rebel mages for help," Leliana asserted, only to be met with an exasperated sigh from Cullen. 

"And I still disagree. The templars could serve just as well," he declared. 

Cassandra spoke up in favour of the mages, causing a small argument to break out between the three of them. Suddenly, in the midst of making a point, the seeker stopped and held up a silencing hand to the other two. 

"It is no use us arguing about this now. We agreed that since she will be the one to close the breach, the decision of who to approach for help must be the Herald's, but she... she is not from around here, she does not know about either group." 

"Well, I do know that mages have powers, and you keep them locked away in so-called 'circles'. I also know that templars are the people who guard them, that recently some pretty big shit went down, and now everything's gone all to hell," Jack replied, taking a slightly guilty pleasure in the looks of shock etched onto the faces of all those present.

"How do you come to know these things?" Cassandra demanded.

"Varric lent me a copy of his book about the Champion. Damn good read, actually. The rest was easy enough to pick up just from listening to people around the camp. Oh, and yesterday I had to stop one of your templars from attacking a mage, who was only to happy to fill me in a bit more."

"Oh, um, yes, I heard about that incident. I thank you for intervening," Cullen said, rubbing the back of his neck. Obviously the templar's rash actions had been a cause of some embarrassment for him. 

"Hmph, I would not have thought that the dwarf's book would prove so useful," Cassandra grumbled. 

"Why, Cassandra, I was under the impression you were something of a fan of that particular book. Did you not call it a 'masterpiece', and insist I read it?" Leliana asked, her voice all sweet innocence. 

"If I may get us back to the point, neither group will meet with us currently," Josephine interjected hastily, covering Cassandra's indignant splutter. "The Chantry has denounced the inquisition - and you, specifically," she continued, looking at Jack. 

"Right, so they  _still_ think I'm guilty?" 

"That is no longer the entirety of it. Some are calling you the Herald of Andraste, but in the eyes of the Chantry you are a totally unknown quantity, someone who claims to not even be of this world. To hear you so venerated scares them. The remaining clerics have branded it blasphemy, and we heretics for harbouring you." 

"Look, I sure as hell haven't asked to be called that, and I'm damned if I know why anyone would give me that title," Jack exclaimed. 

"There are a number of reasons. There is the fact you seemingly appeared out of thin air at exactly the time we most needed help, and the feat you accomplished at the temple. These combined with the mysterious woman seen in the rift with you when we found you, who people believe to have been Andraste herself, have led to you being called her Herald. They believe she sent you to save us," Cassandra explained with uncharacteristic gentleness.

"We have not tried to stop this view from spreading, with the consequence that everyone is now talking about you," Leliana added. 

"It's quite the title, isn't it? How do you feel about that?" Cullen asked, a wry smile playing on his lips. 

"I'm not gonna lie, I still don't really know who this Andraste is, and people are calling me her Herald? It's pretty fucking weird," Jack replied. 

Cullen laughed, "yes, I imagine it would be," he said, sympathy tinging his amusement. 

"For some you are a sign of the hope we do desperately need at the moment," Leliana explained. 

"And for others, a symbol of everything that has gone wrong," countered Josephine. 

"Yeah, well, it seems to be that these people have their priorities ass-backwards. Shouldn't they be worrying about the breach, rather than getting their panties in a twist over me?" Jack responded crossly. 

"They do know the breach is a threat, but they don't think we can close it. The Chantry is telling everyone we'll just make it worse, and people are listening," Josephine replied levelly. 

Leliana coughed lightly, "there is something you can do, however," she said, stepping forward. "A Chantry cleric, by the name of Mother Giselle, has asked to speak with you. She is not far from here and knows those involved far better than I. It would be wise to indulge her, her assistance could well prove to be invaluable."

"And how come she's so willing to talk to me? Isn't she worried she'll be struck down by a lightning bolt or something?" Jack asked warily. 

"She is not so quick to condemn you as her fellow clerics. She was a close friend of the Divine, and is possessed of the wisdom such an association implies. I believe she wishes to meet with you so as to make up her own mind about you. You will find her tending to the wounded in the Hinterlands, near Redcliffe." 

"While you are there, you would do well to look for opportunities to extend the Inquisition's influence," added Cullen. 

"Sounds like a good plan, I'll get right on that," Jack, who had only been half listening while lost in dreams of getting back to bed, assured them. She was about to excuse herself and flee back to her hut when the last of her hopes of sleep were snatched away from her. 

"Excellent, I knew we could count on you!" Cassandra cried, her eyes gleaming. For one alarming moment Jack thought the seeker might have been about to hug her, but she turned instead to one of the guards by the door. 

"Have the men ready some horses and gather supplies, we shall leave for the Hinterlands immediately," she ordered, sending him scurrying. 

Jack's heart sank, partly at the realisation she wouldn't be retreating to the comfort of her bed after all, but also because of the mention of the horses. 

"I, uh, I can't ride a horse," she said sheepishly. 

There was silence for a moment, which was broken suddenly by Cullen and Leliana bursting into laughter. Cassandra merely groaned. 

"Well then, until you learn you will simply have to ride with Cassandra. I am sure you won't object to carrying the Herald, will you?" Leliana asked, a perfect blend of charm and mischief. 

"I - no, of course not," Cassandra replied resignedly, while Jack vowed to herself to learn how to ride a damn horse as soon as possible. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this proves to have not been worth the wait. Sorry also for the wait in the first place - it's been a hectic few months, but I aim to get into a more regular posting schedule this year!

_From the personal diary of Cassandra Pentaghast._

 

_Second Tuesday of Drakonis._

Last night the Herald organised a gathering of some sort in the tavern. I was not asked to join them, but my mind is so occupied by the horrors of the last week that I would have felt compelled to decline if even an invitation had been issued. It went on very late, and I will shortly have to try and rouse her from her drunken stupor to come and attend a meeting of the war council. I imagine this will be neither easy nor pleasant. 

It is pleasing, however, to see her fitting into life in Haven. I would not have predicted this outcome given her belligerence prior to the closing of the temple rift. Leliana is still somewhat suspicious of her, and worries that this new found willingness to help could yet prove to be a rouse. I can well understand her concerns, but I must admit to not sharing them. I believe the Herald is sincere in her desire to aid us. Time will tell, of course, and it will not hurt to keep a close eye on her, but I truly have faith in her.

I can tarry no longer, I must go now and fetch her for the meeting.

~~~

_On the shores of Lake Calenhad._

The council meeting went better than I had feared it might. Despite her fragile state, the Herald behaved herself well, and actually seemed to show a clear understanding of the task at hand. It appears she has accepted her role, and I have hope that in time she may even come to embrace it. No sooner had the discussion concluded than we were preparing to ride out to The Hinterlands to meet with a Chantry mother who wishes to help us. The Herald showed great willing to get started with this as soon as possible, and so we were on our way within the hour. 

The one complaint I do have, however, is the apparent lack of horses wherever she's from. She has never ridden in her life, and so until she learns (which she will, even if the teaching kills me) she is riding with me. I will be charitable and assume she will not make a habit of falling asleep and slumping against my back, as she did today. If she does it again then I will insist on her riding with the dwarf in future.

 

~~~

 _Third Monday of Drakonis_.

We finally reached The Crossroads today. Finding Mother Giselle was simple enough, once we'd fought our way through both mages and templars, both so blinded by hatred and rage as to not see or care who they were attacking. She and the Herald had a most useful conversation, the result of which sees our party going on to Val Royeux, while some Inquisition soldiers escort Mother Giselle back to Haven, where she feels she will be best able to assist us. 

It seems, however, that we are going to be staying here longer than expected. The Herald ended up in discussion with the Corporal in charge of our forces here, after asking him how best to reach Dennet, the famed Fereldan horse master. Corporal Vale saw fit to mention how hard hit people in the area have been by the conflict between the mages and templars. Upon hearing this, the Herald came marching over to us and announced we would be staying in the area for a few days to help where we could. I tried to explain to her that we do not have the time for such diversions, however worthy they may seem, but she would not hear me. 

I hope she sees reason soon; time is a luxury we simply do not possess at the moment. We have made camp by the lake for the night, and tomorrow I will once again attempt to make her realise the reality of our situation. For now though I must stop writing - the Herald has just stuck her head into my tent and asked me to join her outside. 

~~~

_Third Tuesday of Drakonis._

Much of last night remains a blur to me even this evening, but regardless I will do my best to record what took place. When I went outside, the Herald was sat waiting for me. Solas and the dwarf had already taken to their tents, and I could hear quite clearly that they were both asleep. The dwarf snores, incidentally. The Herald produced a bottle of something from her pack and offered it to me. Naturally I questioned its contents, but she insisted I take a drink. Trusting that she wouldn't try to poison me, I did so and was pleasantly surprised by the sweet but sharp drink. As we sat there drinking by the fire, we told each other something of ourselves.

I told her about the vigil I undertook when becoming a Seeker, and that ridiculous story about saving Divine Beatrix from the dragon. The true story, that is. Not that ludicrous legend which saw me single handedly fighting off a horde of dragons. Such nonsense. She found it particularly amusing to learn of my royal lineage. She said something about 'it all making sense now', but would not explain what she meant by that. I even told her about Anthony, even though speaking of his death still hurts with a pain as raw as if he was killed just yesterday. It was strange to be so open with the woman who, not even two weeks ago, I would executed on the spot and considered it a job well done. 

As the evening wore on, and we became further besotted by drink, the Herald started to tell stories of her own. I must admit to having forgotten the details of many of them, but I recall vividly her telling me of the war with a race called The Reapers that threatened to wipe out all of humanity. Her friend, the woman named Shepard who she mentioned back when we captured her, led the attack against the enemy. It seems this Shepard played a huge part in turning the Herald into the "nice, sweet natured girl" she is now. I specifically remember that quote because it made me laugh so much. Fortunately she did not take offense. 

The Herald explained to me how Shepard was carrying the tremendous burden of stopping these so-called Reapers, but even despite the urgency and enormity of her task she always found the time to help those in need. Then she laughed and called Shepard a "god damned pain in the ass". Her words have had an effect on me though, and even now in the sober light of day, I burn with shame at recalling how willing I was to turn my back on the innocents caught up in this idiotic war. 

~~~

_Third Wednesday of Drakonis._

We spent much of today making our way to the southern Hinterlands, where a cult who worship the breach has taken residence. En route we performed sundry little jobs for people - retrieving a stolen wedding ring for an elven woman whose husband was killed by templars, collecting blankets and ram meat for the refugees back at the Crossroads and so on. Helping those people felt right, and provided me with a salutary lesson in just how important it is to show everyone what a force for good the Inquisition can be. 

The Herald is also proving adept at talking people round to our cause. Today alone she convinced five people to bestow their talents upon the Inquisition, including the leader of the aforementioned cult, who has promised to pass on any secrets and information to Leliana. The Herald's resolve only wavered the once today, when we came across a rift that spat out a rage demon. It is the first she has faced, and for a moment she seemed utterly rooted to the spot as it bore down upon her. Solas noticed this and froze the vile creature on the spot, which provided the Herald the time she needed to collect herself. It was dispatched quickly after that, in a ferocious display of what I am told are her 'biotics'.

Seeing her in action since her powers have returned has been something of a revelation, as well as making me truly thankful she is on our side. If I thought she was a capable and deadly fighter before, I now almost feel sorry for any enemy upon whom she turns her attention. Her attacks most closely resemble a mage's lightning spells, but are somehow different. There's a very real force behind them, something physical. She is able to lift people up and slam them into the ground, or blast them with a wave of energy and send them flying. Even Solas is impressed, and has mentioned wanting to make a detailed study of her abilities when we return to Haven. 

Tonight we make camp not far from the cultist's settlement, and tomorrow we are going to visit Dennet. I am hoping he will be able to provide advice, and maybe a good tempered horse, with regards to the Herald's riding training.

~~~

_Third Sunday of Drakonis._

Finally a well earned rest. The last few days have been especially trying. We found Dennet's farm largely unmolested by templars, mages or demons (although there were a couple of rifts nearby that were swiftly dealt with). Nevertheless there were conditions to meet before we could secure his help. His wife wanted us to deal with some particularly bold wolves which had been encroaching further and further onto the farm, while his head farmhand asked that we send Inquisition forces to construct watchtowers around the farm. Obviously it would be highly impractical for us to have to wait the weeks it would take for this latter job to be completed, but he was satisfied with our assurance that it _would_ be done. 

The wolves proved to be under the thrall of a demon, which seemed to particularly distress Solas. These tasks dealt with, Dennet agreed to send some of his best horses with us. With a little coaxing he was then persuaded to donate his own services as well, and I have no doubt he will prove to be a valuable asset. He also gifted the Herald a particularly fine horse, which has proven the ideal thing for her. Dennet secured, we then turned our attention to the templars and mages. We'd been finding abandoned camps dotted around, with notes mentioning strongholds belonging to both parties. We first turned our attention to the mages, who had made their home in a cave in the Witchwood. The templars were similarly dealt with, and hopefully this will bring some peace to the area.  

While dealing with these nuisances, we were beset by some of the largest and most vicious bears it has ever been my displeasure to come across. The Herald said to me afterwards that "I just kept thinking about the fucking awesome bed spread I'll have made from their asshole hides. That's what made it at all bearable" then she and the dwarf laughed at her attempt at a pun. Not for the first time I wondered to myself if she drinks when I'm not looking.  

All of this ended up taking longer than we'd expected, and while there is still much work to be done here (which the Herald has promised we'll be back to clear up as soon as possible), we must now start making the long journey to Val Royeux. We camp tonight just outside the Crossroads, and start off tomorrow for Orlais, via Haven to restock. And, Thank the Maker, I shall be doing this without an extra passenger. Yes, after a few days spent practicing on the very even-tempered creature Dennet provided, The Herald is now quite comfortable on her own mount. She has even given it a name, Blasto, which she promises to explain to me some time.

~~~

 _Fourth Monday of Drakonis_. 

Last night we once again sat around the fire and talked, this time joined by Varric. He tells such wonderful tales, and tells them well, but I still find it hard to overlook the fact that I know him to be an inveterate liar. Still, perhaps I have been somewhat harsh on him. He is undeniably committed to our cause, and therefore I have to believe he means it when he says he does not know where Hawke is now. After all, he must understand how big a contribution she could make to the Inquisition, must he not? He and the Herald... Jack, seem to get along very well. She says he reminds her of friends back home with whom she could "have a drink and chat shit" thereby forgetting all the horrors of the war, if only for a few hours. 

And yes, I am calling her by her actual name now. She says she's fed up with everyone calling her Herald, and told me that if I didn't start calling her Jack she'd call me Princess Cassandra until I did. Were she anyone else I would not believe this threat, but I think she really means it, so I will ignore propriety and use her name. Solas still keeps very much to himself. I am told he had promised to visit Jack when she was still recovering from closing the temple rift, but never did. She does not seem overly concerned with his aloofness, however, and I think she even prefers him to keep his distance. When he made that comment the other day about wishing to study her, she did not betray any anger, but I did hear her muttering under her breath that if he wanted she'd give him a proper demonstration "up close and personal."

I will have to try and keep him from saying anything to further antagonise her, but it seems somehow inevitable that I shall fail to do so completely.  I must stop now as we are breaking camp and starting the journey back to Haven. 

~~~

 


End file.
